Ask Fics
by Vinniey
Summary: All of these stories were requested by people on Tumblr and I have written them to the best of my ability. These stories range from pairings of JayTim, BruceDick, BruceWally, dD (DickDamian), and JayDick. Prompts are still open, click to read the rules and forms.
1. Lies

**8asweetpea3**asked:

Hi the dD tag hasn't been updated in awhile :( could you do a fluffy fic where they talk about how they never lie to each other or something

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Oh my goodness, I got really excited when I received your prompt. ^^ I hope this is up to par for you. :D I had a bit of fun writing this, although it was the very first time I ever wrote something for this pairing. I love these two cuties so much ^^_

* * *

**Lies**  
_Dick/Damian  
_((Started: November 24th/Finished: November 24th))

Their relationship is a strange one, filled with snark and hugs on different parts, and truth on both parts. Dick provides the affection, Damian provides the space, and they both strive to tell the truth. And it works for them.

Well, for the most part.

"Damian, have you seen my grey sweater?" Dick asked as he dug through his dresser and closet in search of the article of clothing. Damian sat on his bed, productively reading a book (or pretending to).

"No," he responded indifferently, not looking up from the page's content. Dick stopped searching for the sweat as a small smile formed on his face, suddenly realizing where the sweater is.

"Damian," he spoke with slight warning. "We promised to tell the truth, didn't we?" He turned around to find the boy scrunching his nose in disdain, and a glare was sent his way.

"Fine. Yes, I took the article of clothing," the teen admitted. _But I'm not telling you where it is_. A rich chuckle sounded through Dick's throat, and he ruffled Damian's hair affectionately.

"Thank you," he said before he plastered a soft kiss to Damian's temple, delighted in the light hue of pink coloring the boy's cheeks. "I'll just wear the blue one.

* * *

"Grayson, what do you think you're doing?"

"Just hugging you is all," Dick replied as he nuzzled Damian's neck affectionately.

"You expect me to believe that you would just hug me out-of-the-blue when you _should_ be getting prepared for your mission?" the teenager asked incredulously.

"It'd be nice," Dick admitted as he let his chin rest on the boy's shoulder.

"I don't believe lies, or at least yours," Damian stated, and he a puff of air from a silent laugh hit his neck.

"Good to know," Dick replied, and his embrace tightened only by a fraction.

"Just wanted to say goodbye to you before I left, is all." Damian scoffed at the confession.

"It's not like you're leaving forever; an idiot like you would not contain the ability to stay away from me for too long." Dick smiled at the reply and fondly weaved his hand through the boy's hair.

"Damn straight."

* * *

"Hey, kiddo-"

"Please do refrain from calling me 'kiddo' or any ridiculous nickname of such."

"Okay then. Hey, Dami." Damian set his book down in his lap in order to glare at the older man.

"Did I not just say-"

"Hey, you said 'ridiculous.' You said nothing about 'teasing'," Dick stated with his hands raised in mock surrender. He laughed when Damian huffed in frustration and rolled his eyes.

"_Fine_ then. Is there something you needed?" he asked.

"Yes, actually," the older male replied. "I was wondering if, by any chance, you ate the last strawberry tart."

"And why would I have any valid reason to eat the tart?" Damian inquired. "Alfred's cooking is-"

"Damian."

"-top notch." A sigh. "Yes, I ate the tart."

Dick smiled warmly at the boy. "That's perfectly fine. I'll just go help Alfred go make some more then. Would you like to help?"

"And why would I-"

"Damian."

"Yes, in fact, I would."

* * *

"Grayson, why must you always insist on giving me hugs every instance that you see me?" Damian asked with annoyance lacing his tone. The question only made the broad arms that were wrapped around him tighten in response.

"Because you're so adorable," Dick replied and his smile broadened at the resounding "Tt."

"I am not," the teenager replied. "I wish you'd stop hugging me. It's annoying."

"Stop lying. You and I both know that you love my hugs, and you secretly crave for them."

"… Okay, fine. But I'm not giving back the sweater!"


	2. Word on the Street is

andthenabanana asked:

[New Prompt] Bruce has proposed and Wally's accepted, and now it's time to announce the news to the family (and the world).

* * *

_**Author's Note: **__I was at such a loss when I received this prompt. I didn't know where to start. TT^TT I hope this doesn't suck as much as I think it does. XD Beware of the extreme fluff! Oh have mercy on the fluff!_

* * *

**Word on the Street is...  
**_BatFlash_  
((Started: November 25th/Finished: November 25th))

"I don't exactly understand why I have to go," the redhead said with a sigh as Bruce worried himself with fixing the younger boy's bow tie.

"Would you really have me attend my own boring charity ball _by myself_?" Bruce inquired as he fastened the bow in a knot. "Thus leaving me to get flocked shamelessly by the ladies?" Wally scrunched his nose in disdain and glared hopelessly at the older man.

"I suppose not… But why do I have to show up _with_ you? Don't you think that'll raise a few unwanted heads?" Wally asked almost bitterly. Bruce dropped his hands to rest on Wally's shoulders in a reassuring gesture.

"And what kind of date would I be if I didn't bring mine to the ball?" Bruce asked with a certain twinkle in his eyes that Wally couldn't decipher. "And you know, when I gave you this," he said as he briefly held up Wally's hand, "I didn't really mean to keep it a secret." The redhead's eyes widened as his eyes glanced from the silver ring adorning his finger and Bruce's unusually soft expression.

"But… what about the company? Aren't you afraid of damaging business at all?" the younger male asked permeably.

"And why would the company affect my relationship status? In a sense, it's the perfect way to weed out the unwanted people," the dark-haired male replied as he held both of Wally's hands between his own. "And why on earth would I keep something like our engagement a secret?"

Bruce laughed when Wally shoved at his shoulder playfully, the sound rich and full.

"You're such an idiot," the younger man smoke, but a dorky grin was plastered across his face. "You know, Dick's not gonna appreciate the fact that he was kept outta the loop."

A shrug. "He can deal with it. Besides, it's not like we tried to keep it secret all those times." Wally's cheeks flushed a red that could rival his hair, and he cleared his throat to hide his embarrassment.

"Let's just… get to the party," Wally nervously suggested which received another chuckle.

"Alright, alright. I'll stop," the dark brunette promised as Wally dragged him out of the bedroom in order to venture down to the party.

"Wait a second," Wally spoke. "Does this mean I can't hit on the ladies?"

"Even think about it and… well, you don't want to know."

"Right. Can't hit on the ladies…"

* * *

Wally stuck close to Bruce for the majority of the party, not because he didn't want to talk to Dick (because he did), but because Bruce wouldn't let him leave his side. Every time Wally made a move to leave, he was either withheld, or when he was able to escape briefly, Bruce always found him and pulled him back to his side.

It was both reassuring and frightening.

So when Wally's ring was pointed out, he instantly began to panic, his heart pounding profusely against his ribcage.

"Ah, Mr. West! What a beautiful ring you have. Are you married?" A girl with long, luscious brown hair and dark, think eyelashes asked. He swallowed harshly as he searched for the appropriate words. How was one to say 'Actually-no-but-I'm-engaged-the-the-fucking-Bruce-Wayne-who-has-me-practically-glued-to-his-side-right-now'? It just wasn't possible.

"Oh, well, you see… Um…" he began, but Bruce cut in for him.

"It's more of a promise ring, if you will," Bruce offered.

_Oh my fucking god,_ Wally muttered in his head. The woman raised an inquiring eyebrow at the two.

"Oh really?" she asked. "What exactly for?"

_Oh my god, oh my god. Oh my _god. The younger man felt and arm drape casually around his waist, although possessive, and pull him snug against Bruce's fit figure.

"A promise to marry me," the older male spoke while wearing a beautifully smug smile.

"Oh!" the woman exclaimed as surprise took control of her visage. "Well, my… C-congratulations!" she spoke, not too sure of what to say.

"Your words are very much appreciated. Now, if you'll excuse us." Before the woman could respond, Bruce swerved them both around and began to walk away, arm still holding his fiancée close.

"We're… leaving?" Wally asked, shocked himself. "But what happened to telling everyone?"

"All we needed is one person, preferably the type that loves to gossip. Don't worry, everyone will know soon enough. Trust me. And quite honestly, I'd rather keep you all to myself than listen to everyone's questions." Wally blushed a light hue of pink at the words, but snuggled closer to the man nonetheless. His blush darkened, however, when a loud exclamation sounded through the large room, and a smirk formed on Bruce's face.

"WHAT THE HELL, BRUCE?!" _Dick._

"Told you," Bruce teased, and Wally had to restrain himself entirely from hitting Bruce in front of the large crowd.


	3. I'll Take a Bullet for You

******DO ****_NOT_**** READ THE PROMPT UNLESS YOU DO NOT MIND SPOILERS. AND BY SPOILERS, I MEAN THE ENTIRE PLOT, FROM BEGINNING TO END.**

* * *

**CA Alcantar**** asked:**

[I'll Take a Bullet for You] In which Jason and Tim are dating and in the midst of moving in together. Bruce is still missing and Dick does not approve of the relationship. He pleads with Tim to leave Jason but he refuses, so Dick decides to take matters into his own hands. He arranges to meet with Jason and Tim and they get into a fight. Dick takes his gun away and it accidentally goes off shooting Jason who pushed Tim away. He rushes him to the cave where he dies of blood loss in Tim's arms. Bruce comes back sees Jason dead and Dick hanging up the cowl, while seeing Tim put Red Hood's costume up in display next to the Robin one.

* * *

**A/N:** _This is such a morbid and specific request. I love morbid and specific requests. x3 I hope that this is written to your liking. I honestly had a lot of fun writing this (don't look at me like that) and I got really excited when we were discussing this prompt over . I hope you all enjoy this! I do hope this is to your liking as well, CA. I'm sorry it took so long. I got off break right when you requested, so school kind of swamped me for a bit. Hope you don't mind. ^^'_

_So, just so you know, I listened to Lindsey Sterling and Alex Boye's cover of "Grenade" and "A Twist in my Story" by Secondhand Serenade. They just kinda helped set the mood is all. Lol_

* * *

**I'll Take a Bullet for You**  
_JayTim_  
((Started: November 25th/Finished: December 1st))

Rain poured down from the dark heavens, slaughtering the dampened earth down below. Old street lights flickered in the darkening air, mocking the stray passersby beneath them. The wind howled loudly, brusquely directing the wind in various directions, leaving no dry area, or person, safe. It was a very harsh and gloomy night.

Jason heaved a sigh as he scratched the back of his neck and stared blankly at his laptop.

It was going to be a long night.

The sound of a window opening to his right, however, caught his attention, and when his eyes landed on a sopping wet boy clad in black in red, his Jason's eyes widened in surprise.

"Tim? What are you doing here?" he asked as he placed his laptop on the coffee table before standing up from the sofa. A sheepish smile appeared on Tim's face, water dripping from his cowl onto pale skin.

"What, you don't want to see me?" he asked.

"I didn't say that," Jason replied, his own face beginning to mirror Tim's smile. He walked over to Tim, mentally berating the boy for being out in the storm. He gently pulled the cowl back of Tim's face, revealing icy blue orbs and black strands of hair that dangled over carefully sculpted features. His smile broadened when Jason pushed away the dark bangs, his lips parting to show pearly white teeth.

"Then what did you mean?" Tim asked, his heart thudding almost painfully against his ribcage when his boyfriend smiled lazily at his, crooked and genuine.

"I meant, why the hell are you out on patrol in such weather, and why you're soaking the carpet you nag at me for drenching."

"Ah, that," Tim said as he slinked his arms around Jason's neck, his bottom lip being favored between his teeth. "I just wanted to stop by and see you before I went back home. You know how Dick is." The mention of the childish man's name made Jason grimace as he wrapped his arms possessively around Tim's lean torso.

"Yeah, I know, Babybird. I know." The younger male buried his face into Jason's chest, basking in the warmth. The two of them stood there silently in their embrace for a few minutes, the only sound was the soft dripping of water into the puddle that began to form in the soaked carpet. Tim reluctantly pulled away, smiling grimly with a short nod at the older male as he took a step backwards. When he turned around to leave, he was stopped by a loose grip on his wrist, barely holding on at all.

"Stay." The command was soft and, if Tim didn't know any better, unsure. But Jason couldn't be unsure; it was against his rules.

Tim sighed, his shoulder sagging slightly. "Jason, I have to go back. Dick will know."

"And you think he'd blame you for staying out of the storm?" Jason asked as he lightly tugged on Tim's wrist. "Tim, I'm not letting you go back out there." Tim turned around to face Jason who kept pulling him closer.

"I don't have any clothes to change into," Tim admitted, and his silent submission made Jason smile again.

"You can borrow mine," he responded. "Besides, what kept you from doing so before?" The younger male smirked as he played with Jason's fingers.

"You," he drawled. "Because you never give me the chance to actually wear them." Jason grabbed his boyfriend's hips, pulling him flush against his own body, and a smirk grazed his features.

"Would you like to repeat that cycle?" the older male asked as he sensually unzipped the back of Tim's suit. His forehead pressed against Tim's, and their breath mingled together, moist and hot.

"Might as well let the tradition live out while it lasts, seeing as I'll soon be living here," Tim replied, his smirk broadening.

"And who said anything about the tradition dying out?"

"Not me," Tim chirped.

"Didn't think so," the older male said as he slipped the wet suit off the boy's shoulder, taking note of the brief shiver that shook his frame. "Now, come on. Let's get you warmed up."

"And by that you mean…"

"By not letting you wear my clothes." A smirk. "Yet."

* * *

Dick sighed dejectedly, running a hand through his thick, wavy hair. The acrobat leaned forward, his elbows resting on the mahogany desk as his hands were fisted through black tresses. His broad shoulders were tense, which forced his spine into a painful hunch as he leaned over his desk.

Tim didn't come home last night, which meant he was with the Red Hood. _Jason_.

Dick's disdain towards the mentioned man wasn't a secret, nor did he try to keep it as such. The reason for his antipathy belongs to obvious reasons:

Jason is a murderer, and too many times has he raised a knife to Tim's neck in repulsion. He was a psychopath that _deserved_ to be put behind bars in order to help protect the lives of the people of Gotham; to protect _Tim_ from him. Dick figures that it might have something to do with the fact of Damian taking over the Robin position, but Tim should understand as to why it was done. But as if to rub the choice in his face, Tim was sleeping with the enemy.

And that was unacceptable in the acrobat's book.

Dick knew that Tim was also upset with him over their constant disagreement involving Jason, but he at least though Tim would care enough to take into consideration of Dick's feelings and at least tell him he wouldn't be home.

Guess he was wrong.

He rubbed at his eyes in a tired fashion, another sigh passing through pale, parted lips. He strained his ears, however, when he heard light footsteps near the open door and then stand idly at the doorway.

"Grayson." _Damian_.

"Sorry, Damian, but we're not going on patrol yet. You can wait," Dick spoke without even glancing at the boy.

"That is _not_ why I am here, Grayson," Damian replied. "I came to inform you that Drake is back, and that he is packing. In all honesty, I'm relieved that he is leaving, but it looks as if he will not be notifying you of this." The words struck the older male hard, and he stared at Damian with wide eyes.

"He _what_?" he asked, and he was rewarded with an irate eye roll.

"You and I both know that you understood my words the first time. The imbecile is in his room." Before Dick even had the chance to respond, the teen was out of sight, as if he had never been there. He rubbed his eyes albeit roughly before standing from his chair and making his way to Tim's room.

The door was open when the acrobat reached the room. Sure enough, Tim was packing his clothes into a large duffel bag, occasionally grabbing a trinket that holds some sentiment to him. Dick leaned heavily against the door frame, his eyes following the younger man like a hawk.

"You didn't come home last night," he voiced while Tim packed away a handful of shirts.

"Nice observation," Tim replied without even casting a glance at his (_unwelcome_) visitor.

"A call would've been nice," he added, and the younger boy grabbed a pair of pants a bit too harshly.

"And exactly why would you care?" The question was bitter on his tongue, dreading the worse outcome Dick's answer would lead to.

"Because you're my brother, Tim. And we're supposed to care for each other," the older male stated.

"Yeah, _supposed_ to care," Tim said. "Not that you actually care."

"What are you talking about?" Dick asked in an almost accusing manner, his voice raising a notch as he folded his arms across his chest. He received a cold glare from the younger boy.

"You didn't even care to look for me when you fired me."

"You were just blowing off some steam," the acrobat replied. "I didn't think it was too much of a deal." The glare frozen on Tim's face immediately melted away, leaving hurt, blue eyes.

"Dick… I was gone for 3 weeks." Pain dripped Tim's voice as hurt weighed his heart down.

_He didn't even notice. Not at all._

He shoved more clothes into the bag with more force than needed before zipping the bag up, all the while refusing to meet Dick's gaze. It hurt too much.

"Three weeks is a bit of a long time, don't you think? Are you sure you're not exaggerating?"

"I'm pretty sure I'd know how long I was gone. You know, seeing as how I'm mentally insane and my way of keeping myself calm is by keeping track of numbers," the younger of the two said harshly.

"I never said you were insane," Dick defended. "I just said-"

"-that my strings snapped, and I became so mentally unstable that it would be wise to put me in an asylum. What's the difference, really?" The hostile tone lacing the words elicited a frown from Dick; Tim wasn't being completely fair.

"Don't you think you're taking this too immaturely? By moving in with _him_?" Tim flinched at the cruel undertone of the pronoun, anger almost instantaneously flooding his system. Icy blue eyes glared harshly into Dick's, and the older male felt his heart stop at the lethal intensity.

"You _do not_ refer to Jason with such disgust and hate around me, do you hear? And you _will_ refer to him by his name," the male seethed. "Who are you to really judge? Haven't you ever heard of second chances?" Dick's expression darkened as he let his arms fall to his side.

"_Jason_," Dick drawled out irately for effect, "already _had_ his second chance."

"For you… but not for me," Tim said, the rage in his voice beginning to tone down. "But was it really a second chance on your part? Because let's face it, _that _wasn't Jason at that time. That was _Jason-who-just-got-resurrected-by-an-insanity-pit_."

"Does it really matter? He tried to kill us all," Dick tried to reason. "What gives you the notion that he had a sudden change of heart and _won't _kill you in your sleep?"

"Yes it matters!" Tim exclaimed. "Because it is causing you to merge the lines together of your _brother_, Jason, and the lethal side effect of the Pit! And I'm pretty sure that if Jason wanted to kill me, he would've done it by now. I mean, it's been 5 months."

"But what if he's trying to get close to you only to knock you down? To break you in the most painful way?" Dick interrogated.

"He would _never_," Tim hissed out as his hands clenched painfully into fists at his side. "You have no right to even suggest such a thing."

Dick released an aggravated sigh. "But how do you _know_?"

"Because he said he loves me," Tim replied bluntly, his eyes beginning to narrow once more.

"And is that really enough?"

"_Yes._"

"So that's it?" Dick asked exasperatingly. "You're just going to take his word and _move in with him_?" Tim rolled his eyes at the inquiry as he grabbed his laptop, carefully placing it into a separate bag.

"Well, it's not like I'm going to stay where I'm not wanted." The older male took a step closer to Tim, his brow furrowed.

"What are you talking about? You're wanted here."

A scoff. "Yeah, by a demon brat who _has_ attempted _many_ times to kill me in my sleep," Tim paused for effect before continuing in a bitter tone, "and a man who was once my whole world, _who doesn't even care_. I looked up to you; you were my hero. Thanks for killing it." Dick's eyes saddened, and he reached out for the other male. His heart dropped when the younger man backed away.

"You don't have to leave. We can change; _I _can change."

"The only change I want from you is to accept my choices to be with Jason. _Fully_," the boy snapped out coldly, promptly returning to making a final survey of his soon-to-be old room.

"Tim, I- that's not-" Dick sighed heavily through his nose. "Tim, he's not good for you!" The outburst enraged the younger brunette, and he swiftly turned around with a furious glare aimed at Dick.

"Don't you _dare_ tell me what is and what isn't good for me! Dick, I was gone for _three_ weeks and you didn't even notice. What right do you own?" Dick closed his eyes and shoved his hands casually into the pockets of his jeans.

"Don't you think you're being unreasonable with all of this?"

"If unreasonable is the counterpart for your cruelty, then so be it. You took away the only string left in my life that I could possibly rebuild upon. You just snapped it in half and didn't even care."

"You're taking this too far out of-" Dick intervened, and he jumped when Tim suddenly yelled.

"_NO!_" he shouted. "You listen to _me_. I have had _three_ people die and _one _person _go missing_ that you refuse to believe is even alive. The void those people have left behind has tortured me endlessly, and it still does." Every word stung, the sheer pain Tim expressed through his intonation causing the older male to flinch. "Then, you take away the only damned thing I have left of them _and_ what I'm supposed to be, and you just give it to someone else like it's the most unsentimental position in the world; you just rip it from my hands and leave me to figure out why both you and Bruce even took me in. Because honestly, I was just a waste of space that burdened everybody."

"That's not true, Tim," Dick tried to reassure.

"Don't interrupt me!" the younger male bellowed. "I was just a replacement for Jason, and you _know _that. Neither you _nor_ Bruce even wanted me to be Robin, but I persisted. And you know what? I had to live in Jason's shadow for all of those years because I wasn't good enough." The acrobat tried to deny Tim's words, but he was, once again, cut off.

"Don't even try to deny the fact that you both wanted me to be Jason, but the fact that I wasn't disappointed you two, and you _couldn't even look at me_. I might not know what it's like to be brutally beaten to death, and literally go through hell and then come back to life, but I sure as hell know what it's like to be stripped of everything that matters. And I _will not_ let you take Jason away from me. You can't. You won't. And you wouldn't dare."

Tim's breathing was slightly labored from his hurtful speech, and Dick couldn't even find the right words to say. Somewhere during his hurtful, truth-filled oration, tears had spilled over onto porcelain skin. Tim chuckled sadly at his brother's lack of a response, his eyes reflecting nothing but pure, searing pain.

"He was there, Dick. He was _there_. Within those three weeks, I called out to him, and he found me. And he _stayed_. I don't know why, but he did. And _that's_ what matters. He's the only string I have left, Dick. Don't snap that one too." Dick adverted his gaze to the pale, cream-colored carpet, his eyes shifting frantically.

"That still doesn't excuse his hateful acts. Don't leave, stay here. _Don't_ make me force you." If Dick had looked up, he would have witnessed Tim suppressing a violent sob, but he didn't. He _couldn't_.

Tim wiped away the streaks his tears had left behind with the back of his hand.

"Who are you, Dick?" he asked softly, his tone indicating he was restraining his tears with great difficulty. The older man finally looked up with confused, yet melancholic eyes.

"I'm your brother," he answered softly.

"No, you're wrong," Tim said before he swallowed harshly around the thick lump in his throat. "You're a monster." And then Tim brushed past him, bags slung over his shoulder, and exited the room.

It was suddenly so _cold_.

* * *

Tim sighed as he snuggled into the warm body next to him. His bare legs were tucked underneath him as he leaned heavily onto the firm, broad chest. His black boxers barely peeked out from beneath the large, grey shirt that began to slide off his shoulders.

Long, pale arms were wrapped snugly around a built torso, allowing the smaller male a more intimate position. The large, calloused hand, which had sneaked under the baggy article of clothing to pull Tim closer, was hot on his skin, reassuring him that the older man was, indeed, alive. The lulling thump of his steady heartbeat pulsed through Tim, as his head was currently using Jason's pectoral as a pillow, spiking every time Jason moved the fingers glued to his companion's skin.

It was heartening.

A soft, tender kiss was placed to his temple, long rough fingers rubbing circles soothingly into Tim's side. The action resulted in tightening his arms around Jason's stomach.

"You're tense," Jason stated, simply just putting the fact out into the open.

"Oh really?" Tim replied sarcastically, and he released a sigh he didn't know he was holding. The rough hand gently squeezed Tim's side before it slid off his skin and out from under the shirt. Tim's lips tugged downward in a frown, and said frown deepened when he felt a light push at his shoulder, an attempt to untangle him from his boyfriend; he complied reluctantly, but refused to make contact.

"Are you going to tell me what happened the other day?" Jason asked. He received a brief shrug and thin fingers tracing non-existent patterns into the coarse cotton of his worn t-shirt. "Tim," he sighed, and he felt the fingers falter on their outline.

"You're the only one who believes me that Bruce is still out there," Tim stated quietly.

"Is that all that this is about?" the older man asked cautiously, catching the hint of an underlying thought plaguing Tim's mind. His boyfriend still refused to make any eye contact, and the indefinite shapes of Tim's tracings turned into figure eights.

"No," he admitted, and Jason waited patiently for him to speak his mind. "Dick didn't even know I was gone." Jason's brow furrowed at the vague confession.

"You mean, he didn't know you didn't come back last night?" Tim shook his head, the drawings coming to a cease.

"He didn't know I had left the mansion for Metropolis 5 months ago."

"Are you kidding me?" Jason asked incredulously, shifting on the couch to fully face the other male. "Tim, you were gone for three weeks. How the hell does he fucking miss that?" He received another shrug in reply, and Jason had to pinch the bridge of his nose to keep him from raising his voice. "You two got into a fight, didn't you?"

"Yeah." The reply was accompanied by a quick roll of the eyes. "He kept on saying things like you taking advantage of me, or trying to murder me in my sleep, or that you and I don't combine very well." Jason shifted away slightly, sinking back as far into his side of the couch as he could. He saw the sudden flash of hurt grace Tim's eyes, or what he could see of them.

"Do you think that way?" he asked. His tone wasn't accusing nor hurt. Just_ Jason. _His inquiry rewarded him with Tim's undivided attention, shocked crystal blue meeting indifferent teal.

"What? Of course not. Why would you ask such a thing?"

"I want you to feel at home here, Tim. I don't want to force you, and I don't want you to doubt. And if Dick's words are keeping you from being able to even look at me, then maybe this was a bad idea."

"Jason," Tim spoke carefully, like how a person would approach a wounded animal. "I am not ashamed of you." Jason exhaled heavily through his nose.

"Are you sure?" he asked, failing to sound nonchalant in front of Tim. Strong, bare thighs straddled Jason's lap, and familiar, pale arms snaked around a strong neck.

"I'm positive," Tim replied before he ducked his head to the safety of Jason's neck. After time passes, where Jason has yet to respond, Tim sighs irately while blindly grabbing for his boyfriend's wrists. "This is where you hug me back, idiot." He wrapped the older man's arms around his torso before embracing him again. The barely noticeable tightening of the embrace on the other male's part forced a smile out of the younger.

"If you say so," Jason breathed out as he planted tender kisses along the exposed skin of the boy's shoulder. The sensation lit fire to his skin, awakening once dormant nerves. His eyes fell shut, and he tilted his head to the side when Jason began to move to his neck.

And then Tim's phone rang.

Jason seemed annoyed at the interruption, but continued to administer his affection regardless; however, the sudden tension in Tim's muscles made him freeze. He watched Tim tentatively, silently asking what was wrong. Tim swallowed harshly, his wide eyes not faltering.

"It's Dick." The voice sliced through the thick silence that resided in the living room.

"Well, you gonna get it or not?" Tim released a sigh and a grim nod before he reluctantly pulled away from Jason. He walked into the kitchen and stared at the phone which lied on the table. He hesitantly picked the phone up and answered the call.

"Hello?" he greeted as he tried in vain to erase any form of emotion from his tone. He heard a relieved sigh on the either end of the call.

_"Tim," Dick started. "I didn't think you'd pick up."_

"I'm just a few seconds short of hanging up. Now, is there something you needed to say?" Tim inquired bitterly.

_"I… I wanted to apologize to you. Both of you, in person, if that's alright," Dick confessed._

"No, I don't think so."

_"What?" Dick asked, shocked._

"I said no," Tim deadpanned.

_"But why?"_

"Why do we have to accept your apology? It's not like you're going to change," the dark-haired male stated.

_"But Tim, I-"_

"No, Dick. Save it. It's not going to happen, okay? So just leave us alone and-" Tim's sentence was cut off when the cellphone was grabbed from his hand. He turned his head slightly just to see Jason talking to their "brother."

"Why the hell did you call?" Jason asked. "… So, what? … Alright, yeah. Okay, we'll be there… Oh, what_ever_." Jason promptly hung up and gave his boyfriend a blank stare.

"What the hell did you just do?" Tim asked, to which Jason gave a small shrug.

"I'm doing you a fucking favor, that's what," Jason replied as he casually shoved his hands into his jean pockets.

"Why are you doing this?" Tim questioned in a light whisper.

"Because I know that Dick's disapproval is killing you. And god be damned if I'm just going to sit around and see you throw yourself into a ditch. I don't want to see you spiral into a goddamn depression." Almost immediately did Tim's head shuck down so his eyes could stare meaninglessly at the linoleum floor. Jason's words were true, and that lone fact made him feel weak. Jason's eyes softened, and he held his arm out in a welcoming gesture.

"Come here, Babybird," he spoke softly. Without even glancing up, Tim walked into the gentle embrace and locked his eyes shut.

"I'm sorry," he voiced, his words muffled by the cotton of Jason's shirt.

"What the hell for?" his boyfriend gruffly asked before patting the younger male's back briefly. "Now, go get some pants on. We leave in ten." The underlying message of_"I don't want anyone ogling you're legs because that's my job,"_ made a small smile appear on Tim's face, but it was obscured by Jason's shirt.

* * *

The fight was short-lived, ending almost as quickly as it had started. Because _of course_ Jason had to being his gun, and _of course_ he didn't wear Kevlar.

_"What's the gun for?"_

_"For protection," Jason replied with a smirk as he shoved the pistol into the back of his jeans._

_"Then why don't you wear the Kevlar?" Tim inquired as he pointed to the discarded protective gear slung over the desk chair._

_"Because it's not like we're going to need the protection. At least, not fully."_

Tim should've made him wear it. He felt guilt mix in with the pool of anger in the pit of his stomach. He was so stupid.

But what he was_ really_ stupid for was believing Dick wanted to apologize, and allowing Jason to believe that as well. Dick didn't want to apologize; he wanted Jason out of the picture.

_"Tim, please come back."_

_"I thought you wanted to apologize," Tim spoke accusingly, his eyes darkening._

_"I lied," Dick admitted. "It was the only way to get you both to meet me."_

_"You little shit," Jason muttered. "That's just cold. Don't you see what this is doing to him?"_

_"What would you care? It's not like you'll probably keep him for long. Once you tire of him, you'll just kill him off so you can continue your endless tirade."_

Jason snapped after Dick kept spewing insults _(lies. All lies)_ and labeling him; it was to be expected, but Jason got careless, and his gun was taken away. Dick never was one for guns, and the price was that he didn't know how sensitive a gun was. And when his finger accidentally brushed the trigger with it coincidentally aimed in Tim's direction, Jason panicked.

_"Look out!"_

_"What are you- Hey!"_

And Tim couldn't breathe, all oxygen catching in the middle of his dry throat. His eyes were widened in shock and fear as he heard the gun shot resound the air. Jason had pushed Tim out of the way just in time for the bullet to mercilessly shred through the middle of Jason's torso, successfully painting the world red. He collapsed to the ground as he clutched his stomach weakly, blood beginning to flood his throat resulting in violent, nerve-wrecking coughs that tainted white teeth a dark red.

Jason was dying_. Again._

Tim scrambled over to Jason's side quickly, anxiety overpowering all of his senses. His hands shook as he saw Jason's hand covered in deep, sanguine red; a color that would forever haunt his mind. Fear overtook his mind as the fact that Jason was still losing blood, and fast. It was only a matter of time before-

Feather-light touches grazed Tim's hands, and he looked down in surprise to find Jason tapping on the back of his hand_. Morse code._

Tim stared at the older man with teary eyes, and he grabbed his hand firmly within his own.

"No, no. Jason, don't." He was answered with a strained, red smile, and Tim swore his heart tore in two. He clenched his teeth as he carefully maneuvered them both to where he was able to pull Jason into his arms. As he hurriedly stood, he cast a final glare at Dick who was only able to stand there in shock.

"I _am not_ done with you," Tim spat out before he quickly carried Jason over to their motorcycle, thanking the heavens that Jason wasn't too heavy for him. Completely disregarding the helmets, Tim sped off, letting their speed increase to a level as high as he dared, skillfully dodging traffic on the way to the Cave. Tim's heart fell as he felt the familiar tapping of Morse code on his skin, the touches too weak for his comfort. He felt obliged to answer, so while on their dangerous trip to the Cave, the exchanged replies in the form of Morse code.

When Jason let his reply end unfinished, his hand falling from its place on Tim's arm, Tim increased his speed by 15 miles.

He all but stormed into the Cave frantically, screaming for Alfred to come to the rescue. But even so, he fell to his now bloodied knees as he held Jason whose body was beginning to chill. He wanted to start screaming when he saw Jason's eyelids go crazy, fluttering open and close as the male tried in vain to remain conscious. Tim cradled his face in a firm grip, his palms sliding from the slick mixture of blood and sweat.

"Jason. Jason! Stay awake, _please. Stay awake for me_," the younger boy pleaded, though his pleas went unacknowledged as Jason let out a strangled exhale, blood pouring down his face like a waterfall. The sight made bile rise into the back of Tim's throat, but he willed it to stay down as he attempted (and failed) to keep Jason awake.

And then the body became slack as eyelids fell to a close, never to open again. Soft, wet cheeks that grew colder with each passing second slipped through Tim's bloodied hands that trembled violently.

_Dead,_ Tim thought. _Dead. He's dead. Dead, dead, dead. No. NO._

Tim's thoughts were interrupted as he heard a sharp intake of breath behind him, and he didn't have to turn around to know who stood there. With one last look at the corpse, Tim let out a strangled, pain-filled sob as his entire frame shook with soon-to-be-shed tears.

"I told you," he sobbed. "I told you not to snap it, but you did. You fucking snapped it, and now it's gone. Now Jason's _gone_. I _told _you. _I told you_."

Dick didn't know what to say as he stood there in shock, guilt the only emotion he could feel, Tim's murmurs slowly becoming incoherent as his cries overpowered his words.

Tim told him not to snap his last string, but he did anyway. And he felt ashamed for his actions.

* * *

If Bruce was expecting any sort of welcome home gift, it certainly wasn't the sight of Dick hanging up the cowl and Tim placing the Red Hood's uniform in a display case next to the old Robin costume. There was a painfully obvious tension between the two as they refused to speak to one another and chose locations as possibly far apart from each other as possible. The sight confused him, and he had the urge to berate both men for letting their guards down so far as to not notice the third person who had entered the premises.

But then his eyes landed on one of the operating tables that seemed to be occupying a body, but it was obscured by white sheet. Realization invaded Bruce's mind, and he stepped back into the dark shadows of the cave. Perhaps it would be best if he made is reappearance at a later time. For now…

Bruce watched silently from the shadows as Tim tapped on the glass lightly, every movement precise and meaningful, for what he immediately recognized as Morse code.

_Promise not to follow me because I know I won't come back._

_I can't._

_I won't make it._

_Don't say that._

_I just want to say that I-_

Tim clenched his hand into a fist as his jaw clenched painfully, letting a ragged breath exit through his nose, before he finished the unspoken words.

_I love you._


	4. Flamebird

**whiplashsplash****asked:**

[NEW PROMPT: Flamebird] - either JayTim or JayDick. Jason was never Robin, instead becoming Nightwing's sidekick, while Tim became the second Robin. While initially being suspicious of each other, they warm up to one another, right up until Death in the Family. Neither Dick nor Tim take Jason's death very well, and when the Red Hood appears, all hell breaks loose.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, I'm just going to assume that Jay's identity is "Flamebird," so I'll put that here, since I really just wanted to start writing this. Yeah. XD With that said, I hope this is to your liking, and thank you so much for requesting! ^_^

I decided to go for JayTim with this (because I mean, it just kind of worked, I guess. I'm also sorry if Dick seems to be lacking a bit in the story too. D:) And since it wasn't too specific, I'm going to pick this up right around the age of 16 for Jay, and Tim will be… 13. Yup. And I wrote the lullaby/rhyme aaaaaaaaaall by myself. I feel so demented now ;_;

* * *

**Flamebird**  
_JayTim_  
((Started: December 2nd/Finished: December 2nd))

"Jason," Nightwing spoke in a scolding manner he caught the sneer on his partner's face. "Be nice."

"I _am_ being nice, but I'm being _more_ cautious," Jason replied, which earned him a light hit on his head. "_Hey!_"

"I'm sure there's no need to be cautious. Bruce picked him himself, so he shouldn't have to go through your tests as well." Jason replied with a stubborn "hmph" as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"_Fine_," he hissed out. "But if he does anything to my bike, I'm not going to promise anything to you."

"Robin, stop it."

"Stop what?" Tim asked as he glanced at Bruce who was facing the monitor.

"I could hear your scowl," the man replied.

"But Bruce, he's-" Bruce sighed as gloved fingers flew across the keypad, succeeding in cutting off Robin's sentence. Blue eyes stayed glued to the screen as he spoke.

"Just be civil, or at least _try_." Tim huffed quietly and sent one more suspicious glance at Jason.

"Alright, fine," the boy replied as he folded his arms and turned to face his mentor. "But if he pulls any _wise_ pranks, I can't promise you anything." A small smirk appeared on Bruce's face before he pulled the cowl over his face.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

"Monitor duty is boring!"

_"Flamebird, stop whining,"_ Nightwing spoke through the com._ "You should even be thankful that we're letting you help out on the cases at all."_ Jason leaned back in the large chair as he head lolled back in mild irritation.

"Yes, I know, but it's still not the same," Jason sighed as he stared at the monitors.

_"You have Robin there to keep him company. Try not to kill him, though I doubt you'd be able to in your condition."_

"Fuck off!" Jason retorted as he heard soft chuckling on the other end of the line. "Just call us when you get to the damn locks." He could almost _hear_ the knowing smile appear on his mentor's face.

_"Will do, kid."_

"And I'm not a kid!" Jason yelled, but the call had already ended. He let out a frustrated exhale as he stared blankly at the computer banks.

_Boring._

He suddenly felt eyes scrutinizing him, and when he turned to his side, he wasn't surprised to find Tim watching him carefully.

"What?" he bit out. He saw those crystal blue eyes flicker down to the white cast encasing Jason's entire leg, and the older boy had the sudden urge to hide it.

"Why did you do it?" Tim asked.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jason asked as he furrowed his brow. Tim nodded towards the cast.

"Why did you take the blow?" _That was meant for me?_ The older vigilante sighed as he rubbed his face.

"I dunno. Because it was the right thing to do?" he replied.

"But you hate me," Tim pointed out, his eyes never leaving Jason's figure as he watched him shrug.

"Well, maybe you're not as bad as I thought you were," Jason admitted which caused Tim's stomach to flop.

"And maybe… you're not so bad either." His confession earned him a bright, genuine smile from other boy that made Tim's heart thud from deep within his chest.

_Shit._

* * *

As Nightwing ended the link after he landed on the rooftop, he knew the lecture would happen again; it always did. And as Batman landed on the other side of the roof, creating a very noticeable distance between the two men, he knew it was about to begin.

"Save it, B. I don't want to hear it," Dick said.

"At this rate, you're going to get him killed," the older man deadpanned.

"What, you think you'd do better?" Nightwing snapped.

"I'd do better than you. You can hardly take care of yourself as it is. Are you going to ruin his future as well?"

"At least he's not on the streets!" Dick retorted. "I can't change who he is. He grew up on the streets, and by the time I found him, his attitude had taken its permanent place. The only thing anyone can offer him is a home, love, and a nudge in the right direction. Not even a billionaire such as Bruce Wayne can offer more than that, and you know it."

"You're judgment hasn't changed at all over the years," Bruce stated, and the acrobat's jaw clenched in frustration.

"We have a case to solve," he hissed out. "I suggest we stop talking and get a move on." Batman's eyes narrowed under the cowl before he growled out his response.

"A wise choice." _We'll finish this later. _

Dick jumped off the building and cast his line before Bruce could change his mind about staying quiet.

* * *

"Hey, Jay," Tim called out softly, his voice barely audible, but Jason still caught it.

"Yeah?" he asked as he leaned back into the couch, his hands folded behind his head. Tim fiddled with the hem of his shirt in hopes to diminish his anxiety; it didn't help.

"What do you do when you like someone?" he asked hurriedly. Jason turned his head to look at the younger male, a sculpted eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"When you like someone?" he repeated, and Tim nodded shyly. Gradually, Jason's confused features dissipated, and a predator-like smirk tugged at his lips.

"Oh my, could it be that Babybird has a… _crush_ on someone?" The pink hue tinting the younger boy's cheeks was all the information Jason needed. "Oh, how fucking precious," Jason cooed, and he laughed when Tim swatted at him.

"It's not funny!" Tim hissed out, though his assertive attitude was pointless with the vibrant blush adorning his face.

"Hell, it's hilarious! Pretty boy has a crush. Who is it?" he asked while simultaneously trying to grab at Tim's face in order to squish his face mockingly. The action resulted with Tim swatting at the attempts and, therefore, tumbling them to the ground.

"Hey, stop it!" Tim yelled, and he began to laugh as he felt slender fingers brush his sides and lean legs straddle his hips. The younger male squirmed around on the floor in bouts of laughter before Jason finally decided that he would grant the boy mercy.

"So," he drawled. "Who's the special person?" Tim stared at the boy above him as he attempted to regain control of his breathing.

"Tell me what you do when you have a crush first, then I'll tell you." The older boy shrugged at the response.

"Okay then. You kiss them."

"Kiss them?"

"Really?"

"Yup. It's really the easiest way." The thought rolled around in Tim's head as he contemplated the pros and cons of the situation. Then he met Jason's eyes as he awaited the information of his "crush."

"So, you want to know who?" Tim asked, and Jason only nodded. The response the older male received were pale fingers curling bravely around the back of his neck and abruptly pulling him down into a chaste kiss.

Tim swore he thought his heart would burst through his chest when he felt Jason's lips responding naturally against his own.

* * *

Pain engulfed ever portion of Jason's body, blood seeping through too many gashes that littered his body. As he looked up, his face was smashed into the ground, and the sickening noise of bone crunching signaled that his nose had broken.

_Fucking great_.

He received a brutal kick to his side that forced a low groan to emit from deep within his throat. Dark cackles filled the air within the warehouse, sending painful chills down Jason's spine.

"The bird has fallen so far from its nest of shiny things," the demented clown spoke. "Say, I think it's nap time for the little bird, don't you think? I've been working on a lullaby, would you like to hear it?"

_Fucking no_, Jason snapped in his head, his ability to speak long beaten out of him. The Joker took Flamebird's silence as a "yes," and he began to sing in a low, haunting voice, all the while raising the bloodied crowbar for another strike.

_"Tick tock goes the clock._

_Where's the bird that will cut your gird?"_

Every line was accompanied by a harsh blow from the weapon of the clown's choice, and each blow caused Jason's world to turn black.

_"Fall asleep and don't make a peep._

_And red will flow from the American crow."_

After the last line was sung, Jason's vision darkened completely, and he felt himself slipping from reality into the black abyss.

The lullaby works.

* * *

Five years passed since the unfortunate death of Flamebird. Of Jason. His death left many wounds on the people he knew, each of the gashes filling with salt every day.

Bruce supplied most of the salt to Dick's as the unspoken words of "I told you so" lingered whenever they were both present. The guilt overpowered his heart and weighed his chest down to his stomach. If it weren't for the judging stares Bruce and Tim sent his way, Dick would have packed away his suit into the farthest corner of his closet.

But even he knew that Jason wouldn't approve of that.

Tim was no better off, even after 5 years. He busied himself with work from Wayne Enterprises and his vigilante lifestyle, running on barely 4 hours of sleep a night and only eating enough food to _just_ get by. He never knew that he was so dependent on Jason to keep him from turning into, well, _Bruce_.

That thought scared him, so he became even more of a hermit than he previously was. And it suited him.

But all of his pent-up emotions of anger, guilt, and depression came rushing up whenever he crossed paths with the new threat of Gotham: the Red Hood.

Whenever he saw the glistening bright red of the helmet, he just wanted to scream at the man. Take out all of his hurt on him, and he didn't know why. It could possibly be the fact that every word spewed at him was an accusation or a cruel insult. Or it could be because all Tim saw when he fought the Red Hood was his own reflection on the metal helmet.

He just didn't know, but that didn't keep him from releasing his emotions.

"Who the _hell_ do you think you are?" Tim seethed as he watched his target play with his unique knife.

"Whoever the fuck you want me to be," was the reply. "But obviously that wasn't enough for you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Tim bit out.

"You know, you're just as bad as the old man. You take people for granted before you throw them away like they were yesterday's trash. You steal their trust like the conniving little thief you are before you just throw it to the ground and watch it shatter before your eyes. People like you make me sick," he seethed and watched as Tim's eyes darkened.

"_Enough_," he growled. "You have under fifteen seconds to unmask yourself and give your identity before I rip your helmet off myself."

A scoff. "You know, you always did like to go for the face." The statement made Tim unwillingly lower his bo staff slightly.

"What?" he asked.

"Guess things are different." The man reached for the back of his helmet, and the sound of a clip could be heard. "Your crush, _huh_?" he asked as he removed his helmet. "And also your first mistake." The red helmet fell to the ground, rolling away to the side, and Tim felt all of his blood drain from his face as he stared wide-eyed at the man before him.

_Shit._


	5. Mistake

**Anonymous** asked:  
Tim choose Batfam over Jason. Sometime later, Tim sees Jason in someone else's arm. He''s laughing, he looks happy. And this breaks Tim's heart, Tim's relationship with Batfam still strained and he doesn't have Jason by his side. The ending is up to you whether happy or sad. Thanks.

* * *

**A/N:**_ Well, this ended up longer than I thought it would. XD Oh well, at least it's done. I hope you all enjoy this! All feedback is appreciated. Thank you for reading~ Sorry if there are any grammatical errors. I'm too tired to edit right now. lol_

* * *

**Mistake**  
_JayTim_  
((Started: December 3rd/Finished: December 3rd))

The cold, February wind swept fallen snowflakes into the air in a violent dance. The sun had begun its early descent, painting the sky in hues of red and orange before darkening completely. People sought their warm and light-filled havens which left the streets barren, with the exception of two.

"I'm leaving Gotham." The words were almost carried away with the win, never to be head, but Tim heard them. Loud and clear.

"What?" he asked dubiously as he brushed a stray strand of black hair out of his face.

"I'm leaving," Jason repeated as he shoved his hands into the warm pockets of his faded maroon-colored jacket.

"But why?"

"This city… isn't good for me. I need to get away, if only for a while." A bleak gust of wind rushed past the two boys, whipping their hair and clothing in all directions.

"Where will you go?"

"Anywhere but here." Tim nodded slowly, the action causing more black locks of hair to obscure his face.

"Okay then. If you think it's best." Tim cast his eyes down to the snow-covered ground, scuffing his foot into the fluffy, white cold.

"Come with me." It was a soft whisper, a hopeful plea, an unrealistic ideal.

"Pardon?" the younger breathed out incredulously as Jason swallowed in hopes to remove the lump form his throat; it didn't work.

"I mean, I can't offer you the luxury Bruce can provide, but I have enough to rent an apartment within a decent neighborhood. I know it's not the nicest shit you're used to, and I know I can get on your fucking nerves sometimes, but-"

"Stop," Tim demanded, quiet yet powerful. The command left the older boy with wide, confused eyes.

"Huh?" Jason asked, his warm breath creating a puff of white air that soon vanished into the night air. Tim raised his head, and piercing blue eyes that lacked emotion bore into confused and anxious teal.

"I can't go with you," he responded, and he didn't fail to notice the slight falter in Jason's expression.

"You can't, or you won't?" he asked softly, his words holding no accusations or judgment, just curiosity.

"Jason," Tim began. "I can't leave them behind. They're all that I have left." The older boy's eyes filled with recognition as his expression turned serious.

"You have me too, and you _know_ that," he avowed.

"You can't be everything, Jason. It doesn't work that way." The older male sighed and ran his hand roughly through his short, black hair.

"Tim, the family's falling apart as it is. Do you really want to surround yourself by people who hardly even know you exist? Especially while knowing that they'll never get better?" The words rolled bitterly off his tongue, leaving an unwelcome aftertaste; he didn't want to use that tactic, but they both knew it was the truth.

"At least they're a better choice than you!" Tim snarled. Hurt was displayed painfully clear on Jason's visage as he looked down and nodded in response. The younger vigilante felt his heart plummet down to his stomach and settle uneasily.

"Okay," Jason spoke, his voice strained as he refused to lift his gaze from his boots.

"Jay, I didn't mean- you know I-"

"No, save it. You're right. Because when you're given two choices, who would pick the weakest link, yeah?"

"Jay, no, I-"

"I'll see you around, then," Jason interrupted. "Or maybe not. Whatever."

"Jason, wait." Tim's pleas were ignored as Jason turned swiftly on his heel and left the younger behind.

And all he was left with from then on was a broken family and enough guilt to kill a man.

* * *

Wayne manor has never been more of a cold place to Tim. Jason had been correct about the family all along, but Tim couldn't help but wish he had been wrong.

Dick no longer truly acknowledged Tim. He could look straight at him, and it was as if Tim was invisible. He remembered when the acrobat would also send joyful grins his way, and always tried to involve him everything. Now, it was as if the younger boy didn't even exist. And even though Bruce was back, he practically gave Tim the cold shoulder; all of his attention was for his true, biological son and his first son. There was no room for Tim.

Damian seemed to be the only one who actually acknowledged Tim's existence, but it was more of a _'Why-are-you-even-here?'_ type of acknowledgement. Every word spared on Tim was a cruel insult, and 9 times out of 10, Dick was present during these jests. And he didn't even stop Damian anymore.

It hurt, to put it frankly.

Alfred was the only one who still talked to him, still _cared_. After a month of being ignored by the "family" he thought he could possibly fix, Tim had stopped attending meals. He preferred to stay locked up in his room and attempted to avoid all social encounters as possible. And Alfred was kind enough to catch on and start bringing meals to Tim's room, even though the boy would never ask the butler to. But he would thank him every time, send him a strained smile, before returning to his work.

And that's how he lived for the past five months. And every day he berates himself for hurting Jason so badly and choosing not to go with him.

Tim was interrupted from his studies when he heard Dick talk from the doorway.

"Hey, have you seen Damian? I can't seem to find him."

"How the hell should I know?" Tim asked bitterly as he finished working out one of his math problems.

"What's wrong with you?" Dick asked, and the younger boy clenched his jaw.

"Fucking nothing," he snapped. "Now get out." Tim couldn't help but feel disappointed when Dick didn't put up a fight and promptly obliged Tim's command. Slamming his textbook shut, Tim stood from his chair abruptly and left his room. He needed some air.

As he left the mansion the warm summer air warmed his skin as the sunrays broke through scattered clouds. He took off on a fast walk, not caring where he went. He just needed to _go_. So he went to the town square, where he could easily blend in as a nobody through the eyes of everyone else. Almost as if he was never there.

As he was walking, however, his ears caught the sound of a familiar laugh, rich and bold. He immediately turned to the direction of the laugh to find the one person that plagued his thoughts every day. A built figure, bronze skin, bright, teal eyes, and a familiar shock of white in contrast to dark locks.

Jason.

Tim didn't know what to think the second he saw him, but his heart sank when he noticed Jason's companion. A beautiful blonde girl with a structure most girls would die for was clinging to Jason's arm, the two of them laughing genuinely together as they walked along the busy crowds.

And the kiss he saw the two of them share made him break.

Jason had moved on. Jason was with someone else.

_Jason wasn't with Tim_.

Tim took off in the direction of his apartment, pain weighing his chest down to the ground.

Jason didn't love Tim anymore.

* * *

The apartment was the same as it always had been, seeing as Tim didn't prefer change, and he wasn't at the apartment long enough to even do any changing. The male immediately collapsed to the floor in his distressed state, his lower lip quivering violently.

_Hold it in, hold it in, Tim. You've done it before, you can do it again._

But the truth was that he couldn't. Because all those other times, Jason never showed up, but this time he did. With a girl. With a _lover_.

A strangled pule escaped Tim's mouth as he body began to shake. He couldn't do it, it wasn't possible. He couldn't hide it any longer. So he cried into the thick silence of his apartment walls until his lungs burned. Vehement sobs racked his small frame, his throat numbing with every whimper he let escape his throat. He grabbed at his chest, trying to pull at the skin that encased his ribs, as if it would help to ease the bruising pain. It did no such thing.

He had been so detached from reality that he didn't even notice his apartment door opening and the sharp intake of breath.

"Oh shit, Tim!" Two strong, warm arms wrapped around Tim's frame, promptly pulling him against a broad chest and rocking him back and forth in a soothing manner. "Shh. It's okay, it's okay." Tim clutched the intruder's shirt with his pale hands and sobbed into their chest.

"It hurts. It hurts so much," he choked out, and he was rewarded with soft shushes and soothing nothings. The sick part was that Tim didn't want to stop crying because he knew that once he did, the embrace and comfort would end.

And Tim didn't want Jason to let go.

* * *

The two boys sat silently in the plain living room, Tim opting to sit as far away from Jason as possible. Jason seemed bothered by this fact.

"I want to apologize for the behavior I displayed earlier," Tim finally spoke, and he felt Jason release a heavy exhale.

"It's… fine. I don't mind," he replied as his eyes danced around the room, afraid to land on Tim. The younger boy curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his legs and resting his chin on his knees.

"Why did you come here?" Tim asked curiously which earned him Jason's undivided attention.

"Well, I wanted to see you since I came back and I wasn't sure where you'd be, but since this was closest I came here first," Jason responded as he awaited Tim's response. The younger boy noticed the lack of a blonde.

"Where's the girl you were travelling with?" Jason's shocked expression made Tim realize his mistake, and he felt his stomach churn.

"I didn't say anything about Isabel," Jason spoke slowly in a low tone, and then the pieces fit together like a puzzle. "Wait, the reason why you were so upset… Could it be that-"

"You were right."

"What?"

"You were right," Tim repeated. "About the family. I don't even know what I was thinking when I thought I could change them, bring them back together. It was a fool's hope. And not a day goes by that I don't regret the words I spoke to you that day. I'm so sorry." Tim's eyes were glazed over with tears that made his lip tremble, and Jason wanted nothing more than to envelop the boy with his arms.

"Tim," he started slowly, carefully contemplating his words. "I will always love you, and that will never change. But I love Isabel too, and I can't leave her. I can't put her through that, and I hope you can understand." Tim nodded in response, his head downcast so Jason couldn't see his expression. "Tim, look at me." His response was a sharp shake of the head. "_Tim_." Jason's voice was firm and commanding, resulting in Tim to heed his command.

And when Tim looked up, he was met with a soft kiss to his forehead before he was embraced by the older man.

"I love you, and don't you ever forget that," Jason spoke. "But it can't be the same anymore. I'm sorry." The hug tightened, and Tim refused to respond because once he did, he knew it would be harder to let go. After a few seconds, Jason pulled away and held the boy at arm's length.

"I'll keep in touch with you, that much is for sure. You'll be around, right?" His response was a short nod, and he gave Tim a small smile. "Alright then. I have to go back to Isabel now, but I'll see you around. Take care of yourself for me, okay?" A frown tugged the older male's lips downward when Tim didn't reply, but he squeezed his shoulders before walking to the door in order to leave. "See ya later, Babybird." And then the apartment door was closed shut, leaving Tim alone once more.

Tim really wished he was able to gouge his heart out with his bare hands, because his chest ached like there was no tomorrow.

_And who knew?_


	6. Sugar Daddy

**Anonymous** asked:  
Jason is not a kept man, really. So what if he likes to stay at Tim's apartment, no army of rats there. And Tim has memory foam bed which is felt better to sleep on than the futon in the safe house. Also he stays at Tim's place for free so it would only be fair if Jason always cook and every once a while clean the place. Just because Tim likes to buy nice and expensive things for Jason and give him an unlimited platinum card doesn't make Tim Jason's sugar daddy. Oh Harper shut up!

* * *

**A/N:** _I have to admit, this one was pretty fun to write. . Thank you so much for requesting this wonderful prompt! I hope you all enjoy~_

* * *

**Sugar Daddy**  
_JayTim_  
((Started: December 4th/Finished: December 4th))

He doesn't really know when it started, and not necessarily how, either, but Jason found himself waking up in Tim's apartment 8 times out of 10. Hey, there was heat, foot, and no unwanted vermin running loose through the floorboards. He'd take it over his dingy, run down room in Crime Alley any day.

Not to mention, Tim had one of those memory foam mattresses that you would just sink into as the material would mold around your frame. To put it short, it was much more comfortable than the threadbare mattress Jason owned; filling was falling out of the bed from scattered holes and the springs would poke through the thin cover and stab Jason repeatedly in the back. When it became too unbearable, he'd move to his futon, which wasn't any better, seeing that the cushions were so thin that he could feel the rusty metal frame through the material. That cut his skin too, whenever he tossed and turned.

Jason swore that he got most of his cuts across his back while he was sleeping.

Although, he really enjoyed the feeling of Tim pressing his body flush against his own at night, their limbs tangling together and Tim's head being tucked under Jason's chin. He was almost surprised that Tim never said anything about sleeping in the bed; instead, he just climbed in next to him all the while saying, "Don't kick me off, okay? I don't know your sleep habits." And then it just stuck.

Tim also seemed to have a guilty pleasure for spoiling Jason; meaning, he liked to buy _many_ expensive things for the older man. No matter how much Jason protested, he would always find expensive items in his possession which he was afraid to touch in fear that it would be destroyed.

_"I didn't fucking need this."_

_"Says the guy whose current leather jacket now looks like swiss cheese."_

_"You didn't have to do this."_

_"I know, but I wanted to anyway."_

So Jason ends up with a damn _nice_ Calvin Klein leather jacket _that cost of 2,500 fucking dollars._ What the fuck? Jason knew the younger boy had been loaded even long before Bruce took him in, but shit! Jason couldn't help but feel like shitty garbage that Tim wasted his time and money on. Every time the younger bought him something, _especially_ something more expensive than Jason's worth, he wanted refuse it, but the damn _look_ the kid gave him made him feel like the lowly bastard he was. So he accepts the gifts with an inward groan, a roll of the eyes, and a muttered "thanks." Sometimes, Tim will even catch the light tinge of pink adorning Jason's cheeks, but the older male would always blame the lighting for that.

After a month of living around Tim's apartment, he began to feel like a leech because he lived there for _free_. And nothing was truly free in life. Jason would know, especially since he was wearing a fucking $2,500 leather jacket.

So he decided he would cook all of the meals daily, taking away one thing Tim has to worry about. He would clean occasionally too, when he deemed it necessary. He wasn't OCD like Tim was when it came to cleaning, but he'd do his best to actually make it look decent. And when Tim walked into the apartment one day, eyes wide with surprise from not only the clean rooms, but the smell of cooking food (that wasn't burning), Jason knew it was worth it all when he saw the bright smile stretch across the boy's face.

Totally worth it.

Jason didn't really know what to expect when Tim passed him a platinum card, and his only reply was a quirked eyebrow.

"It's an unlimited platinum card. You can use it for whatever you like, but just know that I'm still going to buy you things regardless."

That little shit.

Jason only ever used the card for emergencies, whether he ran out of _his own_ money or whatnot. He used it once, however, when he was with Roy and Kory; they were travelling and they needed a place to crash for the night. The second he pulled the card out, he heard an approving whistle come from Roy, and Jason inwardly groaned.

"Damn. What's up with you two? Brand new jacket, custom-made artillery, and an _unlimited platinum card?_" Roy listed off, and Jason glared at his companion.

"Harper," he warned, and Roy gave him a teasing smile that sent Jason's blood boiling.

"Tim is _sooo_ your Sugar Daddy."

"Shut the fuck up, Harper!"


	7. Be Mine

**Anonymous asked:**

Dark!Tim. Jason belonged to Tim, and no one else. Tim is more than willing to kill to keep Jason by his side.

* * *

**A/N: **… Okay, this turned out waaaaay darker than I imagined, um… I really hope you don't mind. I don't even know what this is. Please don't hate me ;^;

* * *

**Be Mine**  
_JayTim_  
((Started: January 2nd/Finished: January 2nd))

Crimson painted the walls in demoniac configuration, obscuring the original wallpaper that decorated the walls in order to cover a network of cracks and fissures. Sanguine splatters tainted the ceiling and floor in a distraught manner, abrupt with no distinctive manner. In the middle of the entire backdrop, was a single, limp body. A large, gaping hole was torn into their chest, creating an endless fountain of thick rouge. Two (no paled) hands were completely drenched in blood as they lie cold on the broad, destroyed chest. The lungs had been punctured from the rip which forced blood to flow past pearly white teeth and down chilled skin. Turquoise eyes were wide open, glazed over with pain, fear, and death. The dark locks of auburn-brown hair were matted with so much blood that even the white tuft of hair of almost undistinguishable.

The air smelled heavily of the sickening stench of blood, only adding to the painting of the brutal scene.

_Th-thump. Th-thump. Th-thump._

A dark figure sat hunched over the body, clearly holding something in his hands that dripped dark liquid occasionally. His face was shrouded by dark hair acting like a curtain, hiding away the sins that he committed.

_You were mine. You _are_ mine. It had to be this way._

The caliginous liquid covered his hands like gloves, running and dripping down the fleeten skin and splattering on the wooden floor.

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

A red finger reached out to the cold, dead arm and began to write large, grungy letters into the limb. The blood dripped down the arm, only adding to the horrific effect of the threatening message.

_'Mine.'_

Just one word couldn't be menacing enough, to express the desperation and insanity of the situation; to express the devotion and madness; to express the fear and possessiveness of the killer.

The soaked hands curled around an object in their palms, the action causing a sickening squishing noise to sound through the otherwise silent room.

_Th-thump. Th-thump. Th-thump._

It was cold to the touch, dead in every aspect as the arteries had been torn from their usual static positions. Thin, pale lips leaned down to touch the figure, pulling back later to reveal blood red lips.

_You wouldn't fully give me heart. So I took it. But don't worry, I'll give it back.  
After I've made my mark._

The boy pushed the organ to his chest, marring his clothes with crimson stains. Baby blue eyes fell shut as the owner concentrated on the touch, concentrated on the _idea_ of being so close to the man that lay dead before him. He cradled the heart, as if it was the most precious thing in the world.

And it _was._

After a long time had passed, the young man had finally moved, taking out a small jar from his bag. He placed the dead heart inside of the container, screwing the lid tight, and replacing the jar in his bag. He ran his hands down the chilled skin of Jason's face, softly trailing blood on the dying flesh; his final sign of goodbye.

_You will return to me soon. And you will be _**mine**.


End file.
